A Year's Harvest
by starlight.moon.princess
Summary: When Draco Malfoy announces the initiation of courting rites towards Harry Potter in the middle of the Great Hall, Harry is shocked - until he processes what just happened. Now, he's simply anticipating the gifts Draco is going to give him to convince Harry to date him.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Edited 5/1/2013. Thanks to my lovely beta cupcake0118!**

'...and so I would like to welcome you all to a new year at Hogwarts. It is my hope that this year will be a…'

Harry quickly tuned out Professor McGonagall's welcoming speech. Listening to it brought back too many memories of seeing Professor Dumbledore standing at the exact same place, ending his speech with 'Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment, Tweak.'

Instead, his attention had been captured by Malfoy, one tradition that seemed to continue on unbroken. It seemed that neither the revelation of Malfoy's intentions in sixth year, nor the war had rid Harry of his fascination with all things Malfoy.

This year, however, he was even more fascinating than usual. Even though he had lost the war, he still sat at the Slytherin table like he owned everything around him. Harry's testimony had kept both him and his mother out of Azkaban, and had secured a two-year probation at Malfoy Manor for Lucius instead of life in prison, which many had been clamouring for.

The eighth year students were going to complete their schooling over a period of two years, spending half of their time on actual lessons, and the half on helping to restore Hogwarts to its original glory. Those students who did not want to help restore their castle, but still wanted to complete their Hogwarts education would make up part of the seventh years. Harry had assumed that Malfoy would have opted to be part of this group - he wouldn't have blamed him if that had been the case. He could understand that for those students who had attended Hogwarts the previous year - and for Malfoy if particular - the school was a site of extremely painful memories.

Malfoy had, however, defied all expectations when he had decided to join Harry and his friends as an eighth year, and it was upon hearing that news that Harry had decided to try and have a cordial, if not friendly, relationship with him. After having to battle Voldemort continuously for the past seven years, Harry had had enough of fighting - he just didn't have the strength to renew his rivalry with Malfoy for another two years. The revelation that the eighth years would be sharing a dormitory and common room in one of the many forgotten areas of the castle only added to his motivation.

Hermione and Ron would say that it was his fascination with Malfoy which was the reason behind Harry's sudden desire for peace, but he knew that they were wrong.

The desire for relaxation was the only thing that compelled Harry to approach Malfoy and hold out a hand, with all the implications that went along with it. The slightly lost look on his face once he – the only eighth year Slytherin – had on his face once he moved away from his table had absolutely nothing to do with it. Nor did Harry's dual realisations of Malfoy's attractiveness and his own sexuality over the summer affect his decision in any way, whatsoever.

_A couple of weeks later…_

'Malfoy, d'you fancy a game of Quidditch? I'm booooored…' Harry whined.

It was surprising how much could change in a few weeks. Harry's decision to befriend Malfoy had been greeted with shock and disbelief from their peers, but once the other students realised the boys were serious, they quickly got bored with the idea and accepted that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy could indeed be friends. With Ron and Hermione practically attached at the lip, Harry had started spending more and more time with his once nemesis, resulting in the quick formation of a close friendship.

It had surprised Harry, how quickly he and Malfoy had formed this new friendship. He had thought that seven years worth of rivalry would have taken a lot longer to get past, but it seemed that the powers of Quidditch, combined with a mutual disdain for watching Ron and Hermione snog could overcome even the most deeply entrenched childhood enmity.

'Yes, Potter, Quidditch sounds delightful. Thank Merlin you asked - if I have to watch Granger and Weasel exchange spit for another second, I think I'm going to puke. I'll just get my broom.' Malfoy quickly rose from the chair he'd been lounging in, and, after aiming one last look of disgust at Ron and Hermione, moved to the dorm to collect his broom and Quidditch robes.

Of course, his friendship with Harry did not, under any circumstances, mean that Draco's abrasive personality was completely erased.

As Harry walked to the pitch with Draco, he couldn't help but reflect on how drastically life had changed for him since Voldemort's death. Apart from the obvious lack of a crazed killer after him, he had managed to befriend Draco Malfoy of all people, and had come to terms with the fact that he liked boys. The latter was something he doubted he would have managed during he war – he was too focused on being as normal as possible.

But beyond all of that – he had realized that he didn't just find Draco extremely hot, he was genuinely interested in pursuing a relationship with him. He was good-looking, true, but he also had a biting sense of humour, cared deeply about those he was close to, and, most importantly, did not treat Harry as the Man-Who-Lived. To him, he was more Potter the Git than Harry the Saviour, and that was something he valued over everything else. No one had managed to treat him the same way after his victory apart from Ron and Hermione – even Ginny had returned to her star-struck phase. Draco's treatment of him was a rather welcome change.

All of that made for one very sexy boy, dangling right in front of him, and Harry didn't even know if Malfoy was any way inclined to reciprocate his feelings! It was enough to make Harry permanently sexually frustrated – and also accounted for most of the cold showers used in the boys' bathrooms.

He was slowly falling in love with Drcao Malfoy, and he had no idea what to do about it.

By the time Christmas came about, Harry had decided that there was no chance in hell that he would ever get the chance to have a relationship with Draco Malfoy. He had accepted his role as the best friend some time ago, and though Ron and Hermione knew of his infatuation, he had absolutely no intention of revealing his feelings to Draco.

He, along with Draco and Hermione had decided to stay at the castle over the holidays. Ron was returning to the Burrow to spend the first Christmas without Fred with his family, and though both Harry and Hermione had been invited, neither had felt comfortable intruding on what woud undoubtedly be an emotionally-charged holiday.

Harry was spending much of his time moping over the fact that Draco was never going to love him back. Hermione had long since grown tired of hearing his self-pity, especially since she had been insisting that Draco had it just as bad for him as Harry did for Draco, and that it was obvious to everyone except him.

Harry had no doubt that Draco had caught onto his feeling for the blonde by now – he wasn't stupid – but there was absolutely no way that his feelings were reciprocated. If they were, he had no doubt that Draco would have said something by now.

So it was a shock to Harry when Draco approached the Gryffindor table during breakfast on Christmas Eve, and announced to everyone present, 'I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, do announce the initiation of the Yule Courting Rituals towards Harry James Potter.'

He offered Harry a soft smile and, looking at the gob-smacked expressions of everyone around him, walked out of the Great Hall, his head held high


	2. Chapter 2

_Also written for AlwaysPadfoot's 52 weeks of writing 2013 competition, using the prompt **textbook.**_**  
**

**CHAPTER 2**

Harry watched Malfoy's retreating form, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his jaw slack with awe.

'Did that really just happen? I think I might need you to pinch me, Mione.' He soon regretted asking, looking at Hermione's smug face. If he knew her, he knew what was coming…

'I _told_ you so, Harry! I _told_ you Malfoy had a thing for you! And what was that you told me – oh yes, _there's no way Malfoy's interested in me, Hermione. He's so far above me that it's not even funny._ I _told_ you so.'

Harry sighed. He needed a way to distract her – and, of course, combined with the fact that there was something he hadn't quite understood in that declaration of Draco's – 'Hermione, what exactly did Draco mean by Yule Courting Rituals?'

'Oh! It's one of the Pureblood Courting Rituals – it's actually a very fascinating subject. There are a number of different Courting Rituals, each for a different situation. The one Malfoy has initiated is sort of a declaration of intent. Most of the other Rituals are a precursor to asking for a person's hand in marriage, but this one is what precedes Malfoy asking you out – you know, for dates. It's all very formal, don't you think? I mean even Muggles of the highest society don't have rituals for this kind of thing.' Hermione rambled on, caught up in lecturing Harry about the various courting rituals the purebloods had come up with.

'Hermione,' Harry interrupted, 'while this is all very interesting, I really just want information on the ritual Draco mentioned.'

'Oh, of course. I have a book about it in my room.' Hermione got up from her seat, grabbing a couple of croissants and eclairs to take along with her. 'I'll meet you in the Common Room, Harry.'

It was then that Harry noticed that their conversation had not gone unnoticed. Almost every face in the Great Hall was pointed towards him, shock etched on each one. "Yeah, let's get out of here," he muttered.

* * *

Harry had just managed to reach the Common Room when Hermione came bounding down the stairs of her dorm, an enormous old-book held in her arms.

'Here it is,' Hermione pointed to a chapter in the book, _Purebloods for the Muggleborn, _'the chapter we're looking for, page 425.'

Harry bent his head to read along with Hermione.

_The Yule Courting Rituals are unlike other more formal courting rituals, as they simply precede the request to meet someone informally. This particular Ritual lasts for a year, and traditionally starts at Yule Time (Christmas). Under these courting rituals, the initiator presents the recipient four presents per season, and a number of presents equal to the recipient's age the next Yule – or Christmas. The seasonal presents are traditionally drawn from either the elements (for more information on the elements and their symbolism, see Chapter 1), or symbols associated with the major festivals of each season (for more information on the traditional festivals, see Chapter 5) and are often given on popular holidays such as St. Valentine's Day and Easter. The final, age-numbered presents may be anything, but are traditionally presents that signify how well the gifter knows the recipient. _

_ The traditional time to announce the commencement of the rituals is Christmas Eve. As such, the winter season is necessarily broken up. The first two winter presents are given after the announcement of the courting, and the third and fourth presents are given the following year, before the end of the rituals._

The book continued to detail other intricacies of the rituals depending on who the initiator and the recipient were, but Harry had already reeled back, shocked.

'Wow, he didn't choose something simple did he?' Hermione commented.

But another thought had quickly begun to form in Harry's head. 'Why did he need to initiate the rituals with me, Mione? Surely just simply asking me out would have worked just as easily?.'

'Malfoy was actually very smart in announcing his intention to court you before asking you out. Don't you realise the position you're in, Harry?'

'What position?'

'You're the Man-Who-Lived, remember?' Hermione had a pitying look on her face. 'If Malfoy had simply asked you out, he would have been accused of trying to use you for his own gains, to return the name of Malfoy as respectable, things like that. He would have had to face a lot of bad press before people would even _think_ about letting it go. But by initiating the rituals, Malfoy's proved that he's serious – that he's not just using you. No one who knows the reputation of the Malfoy family would imagine that he would initiate one of the old Courting Rituals if he didn't mean it – the family's just too proud of their heritage to do that, even with their side defeated. By doing this, he has almost erased the possibility of bad press when your relationship comes into the public eye.'

'But is there a particular way for me to reply to him? What am I supposed to do now?'

'Don't you _read_, Harry? It's written right there, in black and white, waiting for you to see it!' she fixed him with an exasperated glare. 'You're not supposed to do _anything_! Malfoy initiated it, and Malfoy will carry it out – you only come in after the last presents have been given. Malfoy will ask you out, and it's then that you have to make your decision. That's why the old rituals aren't used much these days – the initiator is expected to spend a lot of time and money on the recipient, without being sure of the outcome.' She suddenly looked at him knowingly. 'This should also satisfy _you_ about his seriousness. If I know you, even his usage of the old rituals hasn't convinced you, but this should. The amount of time and money he's pledged to spend on you is ridiculous. He's expected to give you 35 presents by next year. And knowing Malfoy, they're not going to be cheap.'

Harry just gave her a sheepish smile. She'd just cleared the last of his doubts, and now, he just had to wait for the first present to come in.

**A/N: I've got a H/D oneshot up called 'A Life Fully Lived,' please go check that out! And please remember to review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I love that so many of you have followed/favourited me, but could I please have some review too? Pretty please? *Give puppy dog eyes*  
**

**CHAPTER 3**

**WINTER – Part 1**

Harry woke up on Christmas day to pile of presents that was several times larger than anything he had ever received before. He knew that this was the effect of his defeat of Voldemort – it seemed as though almost every magical person in the British Isles seemed determined to reward him in any way possible.

Hermione had predicted this after the storm of owls on his birthday, and he had already advised all his close friends and family to either present their gifts to him in person or send them through someone else in the castle.

A Malfoy eagle owl flew through the dormitory window just as he was making his way down to the Great Hall for a late breakfast.

_Harry,_

_Get your ass down here. It's already 11. What exactly are you doing up there?_

_Draco_

_P.S – Don't mention yesterday. Granger has undoubtedly already told you that you aren't supposed to reply before next Christmas, but knowing you, I thought I'd include a second warning. Don't._

_Also, my Christmas present for this year is not included in the presents I'm going to be giving you over the next year. Don't argue about that either – I'm a Malfoy, you won't win._

Harry shook his head – after more than three months of being friends with Draco, he knew the other boy was right. He wouldn't win the argument, and he liked to think that he was learning when to pick his battles.

Draco thrust a wrapped package into his hands as soon a he entered the Common Room.

"I know you've been thinking about writing the truth of the war to counter the pieces the Prophet comes up with. The journal's got inbuilt secrecy charms – no one will be able to read what you've written unless you give them explicit permission. I thought it might help in making sure Granger doesn't interfere in her misguided attempts to help," he said in a rush.

Harry grinned. Draco was so cute when he was nervous – not that he was ever going to say that out loud. Contrary to popular belief, he did _not_ have a death wish.

Instead, all he said was "Thanks, Draco. I hoped you liked your present."

"I loved it. How did you manage to get a hold of those ingredients? Some of them are restricted materials – the Ministry won't let anyone other than registered Potions Masters buy them, and if your Potions grades are anything to go by, you're anything but a mater in Potions."

"Sometimes, being famous isn't all that bad," Harry replied with a smirk.

The two boys walked towards the entrance hole in a companionable silence. Before Draco could open the door, Harry, astounded at his own bravery, reached out and pulled him into a hug.

Holding Draco was like nothing he had ever experienced before. It may have been a cheesy and overused line, but in those few moments, he found what he seemed to have been looking for his whole life. A reason – a reason to exist. As much as loved his friends, it sometimes got extremely lonely when they paired up. But with Draco, all that disappeared. It was like – Merlin, why were clichés so true – like the world disappeared and it was only the two of them.

Before Harry reluctantly let go of Draco, he murmured, "You know what my answer will be, but for your sake, I'll keep quiet."

The pleased blush on Draco's face was definitely worth the smack Harry received to the back of his head.

* * *

_The season winter is associated with the element earth. One of the most well known – and difficult – earth magics is runic magic. Other earth magics include…_

_Of the major holidays occurring during winter, Yule is the most famous. Samhain – popularly celebrated as Halloween – and Imbolc signify the change of the seasons. Samhain brings in winter as autumn recedes, and Imbolc signifies the end of winter, and entrance of Spring. Imbolc is associated with, among other things, new beginnings and cleansing of both the body and soul…_

The first gift reached Harry in the middle of one of Ron's ranting sessions. He was rather pleased with the whole thing, because Ron was ranting about how Draco couldn't be trusted, and Harry didn't trust himself not to reach for his wand.

As soon as she saw the owl, Hermione put down the book she was reading and approached them.

"Is that the first one, Harry?"

"I think it must be," he replied, reaching for the small parcel and letter tied to the owl's leg.

"Well, open it mate! Let's see what the ferret's sent you – it'll probably be something dark, knowing him."

Harry just looked at him and sighed. "Are you sure you want to be here for this, Ron?"

"Of course I do! I need to protect my best mate from ferrets, don't I?" he answered indignantly.

Harry opened the letter first.

_Harry,_

_I could explain the necklace to you, but I have no doubt Granger will manage that. To make your life easier – you push yourself too hard, with both the rebuilding and your studies._

_Do remember to wear it at all times._

_Draco_

"Bloody hell, he's trying to order you around now!" Ron exclaimed, reading the letter over Harry's shoulder.

"Ronald! Just let it go!" Hermione exclaimed, finally reaching the end of her patience. "Open the package, Harry."

The package held a delicate silver necklace in the shape of what Harry assumed was a rune. Before he could say anything, Hermione let out a shocked exclamation.

"I've read about those! It's a runestone – they're extremely difficult to make, and hold the properties of whichever rune they represent. That's one's Berkano. It represents Berchta, the birch-goddess. Among its many attributes is the promise of growth, mental, physical and personal. The necklace will make it easier for you to gain new knowledge or learn new things, and it will make physical challenges easier on your body."

Harry stopped listening to Hermione as soon as he registered what the necklace in front of him meant in conjunction with the letter. He doubted even Ron or Hermione had noticed that the constant strain on his body meant he was tiring more easily – it was extremely subtle, and he had taken some time to realize it himself. But Draco had – Draco had noticed it.

As Hermione continued on with her lecture, he slipped on the necklace, a warm feeling slowly spreading over his body.

* * *

It was the first of February, and most of the Gryffindor table was listening raptly to Hermione talking about the significance of the day.

One of the most unexpected results of the war with Voldemort had been the effect it had on convincing the rest of the wizarding world about Pureblood traditions. In order to prevent another Dark Lord from gaining followers the way Voldemort had done, the Ministry, along with McGonagall, had made knowledge of Pureblood traditions a part of the NEWTs , with the first class having started as soon as the Christmas holidays were done.

Draco's declaration had only increased the popularity of the class, especially among the boys. The conversations among the girls on how romantic Draco was being had quickly convinced them of the merits of this new idea. It helped that Hermione had been right when she was explaining the Courting Rituals to Harry – the old traditions were an extremely fascinating subject, even to those who didn't have Hermione's academic leanings.

And so it happened that, apart from the few purebloods in Gryffindor, everyone was actually paying rapt attention to Hermione's lecture on Imbolc for a change.

Harry's attention, however, was wandering. According to Hermione, today was the last day Draco had to give him the second of the two gifts to be given this winter, and he was keeping an eye out for eagle owls. Because of this, he nearly missed the fact that Draco was approaching him.

As he came closer, the rest of the table gradually grew silent. The last time this happened had been that fateful breakfast the day before Christmas, and the majority of Gryffindor had not been present. This time, they didn't intend to miss anything.

As soon as Draco reached Harry, he handed him a large, neatly wrapped package. Looking around at all the eyes on him, he bent down and murmured in Harry's ear, "these have calming potions in them. They'll make sure that you can have a good night's rest after the too many stressful days you seem to be having. I didn't give that necklace so that you push yourself even more, you know."

As soon as Draco started to walk away, what seemed like the entire house pounced on Harry at once.

"Can we please see what's in it, Harry?"

"Please open it here, Harry!"

"C'mon Harry, open it!"

Laughing, he held up his hands. "Okay, okay, guys, calm down. I'll open it right away."

The package held a large selection of home made creams, bath salts, pain potions, and assorted other items. They weren't expensive if bought, but it was obvious that Draco had made each of them from scratch. As the girls awwed and the boys looked slightly nauseous at the romantic gift (and a tad bit worried that they would be expected to do the same – Gryffindors weren't known for their excellence in Potions, mainly due to Snape's hatred of them), Harry let a sly smile take over his features. Just because he couldn't say or do anything romantic with Draco for the next year didn't mean that he couldn't send him gifts as long as there was a genuine reason. And Valentine's Day was just around the corner…he had to have a talk with McGonagall immediately.


	4. Chapter 4

It had taken a lot of wheedling, and what felt like too many promises, but Harry had finally gotten what he wanted, from both Hermione and McGonagall. He was enjoying getting gifts from Draco, but it didn't stop him from feeling guilty at the same time. Just because the ritual said that Draco had to give him gifts didn't mean that he couldn't return the favour.

He knew Draco would kick up a fuss if he started gifting him things for no reason – he'd probably say that it went against the rules. Draco wasn't the boy he once was, who believed he deserved to be pampered simply due to being born a Malfoy. As much as most people – including Ron and Hermione – would find it difficult to believe, the war and the things Voldemort had forced him to do had robbed him of much of his self-confidence. His announcement on Christmas Eve had most probably been spur of the moment – Harry suspected he had been as shocked as the rest of the school.

Hermione believed that Draco would try his very best to make sure Harry said nothing until the formal end of the ritual in order to stick to tradition, but Harry knew better. Sure, tradition was a part of it, but a larger part was the fact that no matter what he had told him on Christmas, Draco just wasn't sure of his answer. Harry hoped that what he had planned for tomorrow would take care of those doubts once and for all.

Valentine's Day dawned bright and clear. Harry groggily got up to the sound of what sounded like a girl's high-pitched squealing. He slowly realized that it was actually Seamus panicking rather loudly on the other side of the dorm.

"What the bloody hell is going on there?" Ron moaned.

It was Dean who replied, sniggering. "He forgot that today's bloody Valentine's Day – and he hasn't gotten anything for his _date_."

Harry's head snapped up at that, all irritation at being woken up forgotten. "He got a what – oh bloody hell, it's Valentine's Day." He could feel the panic setting in – why exactly had he thought that this was a good idea again?

"Yeah – and Malfoy's already left, so no need to look so worried." Dean replied, the grin on his face growing larger as more of the boys woke up, realized the date, and joined Seamus and Harry in the Land of Panic. As one of the few unattached eighth year boys, Dean claimed it was his prerogative to treat his dorm mates panicking over romance as one continuous movie.

"He said he'll be in "the room" – said you'll know what that is – and he's left you something on your table," he continued.

Harry turned his head to his bedside table and realized that Draco had indeed left something for him – a box of what looked like extremely expensive (though delicious) chocolates), and a note on top of it.

Giving Dean a suspicious look – they may not have had Ron's appetite, but none of the boys in the dorm were going to ignore chocolate sitting right in front of them, with it's owner asleep – he reached out to open the note.

_Harry,_

_Happy Valentine's Day. I'm sure that Thomas has passed my message on to you by now, so I see no need in repeating myself. Don't worry about your dorm mates – both the box and the note are keyed to your magical signature, so you will be the only person able to touch them._

_Considering your chocoholic (when in Merlin's name did I start using words like chocoholic?) tendencies, I though that it was time you had something of actual quality instead of that drivel from Honeydukes._

_Draco_

Harry opened the box of chocolates, nearly drooling at the selection he saw in there. He picked out one – a dark chocolate and raspberry concoction – and popped it into his mouth, as a pleasure-filled moan escaped him. It tasted delectable – and then he opened his eyes and noticed Ron and Dean staring at the box in his hands with a ravenous look in their eyes. He immediately placed the box on his table and got up, moving towards the showers. He was sure that one of them would try to filch it – just as he was equally sure that Draco had made sure that anyone who tried to steal his chocolates would ay for it dearly. He couldn't wait to see what they would look like at breakfast.

* * *

Draco was exactly where he said he would be, in a small, private room he had found the previous year. It was located in the dungeons, which was why he had found it so easily. Though their aborted seventh year held a lot of bad memories for Draco, this room wasn't one of them. He had once confessed to Harry that he was only comfortable with being himself in this room, a habit born of years of hiding. This was the place Draco spent most of his time in. He still slept in the dorm because it was the rule, but almost all of his free time inside the castle was spent here.

When Harry entered the room, Draco was fiddling with an ornately decorated box. He looked up as the other boy entered the room.

"The message you left was rather curious. Why didn't you want me to open the box until you got here?"

Harry smiled proudly at that. It had taken some extremely fiddly spell-work to create the object in Draco's hands.

"Why don't you open it and find out?" he replied, sidestepping the question.

Giving Harry an annoyed look, Draco did exactly that. As soon as he opened the box, a soft, gentle tune filled the air. A few seconds later, the sound of a man joined the music in the air.

Draco gazed at the box in wonder, tracing the intricate pattern on its border, before closing it and raising his head to look at Harry, a look of awe on his face.

"Which song is that?" he whispered.

Harry's heart felt as though it was about to burst out of his chest at the look on Draco's face. He could barely speak for fear of his words breaking at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of him.

"It's a combination of two muggle songs, actually. They'll play in sequence if you leave the box open. The songs are called _Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You_ and _I Knew I Loved You._"

"Potter –" Harry put a finger to Draco's lips before he could say the words of protest he knew were about to be spoken.

"Just listen to them, please?" He asked earnestly.

Draco looked at him for a long moment, before letting out a defeated sigh. "Alright, Harry. Just – stop with the eyes! I thought we decided you weren't allowed to use them."

Harry smiled sunnily back at him. "With you, one needs to know when to play dirty, Draco," he replied, before turning serious once again. He took Draco's face in his hands, giving it a long, searching stare.

"Just – know that I mean everything in the songs, okay? I may not have realized it before, but I do."

Against his will, Draco's lips curled up into a soft smile. "Alright Potter. Now leave – I want to listen to this music box alone. I'll meet you at breakfast," he said in a tone of fond irritation.

Harry turned to walk to leave. Halfway to the door, he turned back, walked towards Draco, and, summoning up all his courage –

"Potter? What –"

– leaned up and kissed Draco on the cheek. Before Draco could say anything, he quickly turned and fled the room, deciding discretion was the better part of valour.

Because he didn't turn back again, he missed he sight of the beatific, if slightly goofy, smile that appeared on Draco's face.

* * *

**A/N: The songs that Harry uses here are 'Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You' by Air Supply, and 'I Knew I Loved You' by Savage Garden.**

**An explanation why Draco is so intrigued by the music box - I see the purebloods using magic for everything, so if they need to play music, it's either over the WWN or through the use of spells. So Draco hasn't really seen a music box as such, and it is a fascinating and new concept for him.**

_Also written for AlwaysPadfoot's 52 weeks of Writing 2013 competition, using the compulsory prompt Sneaky_


	5. Chapter 5

**SPRING**

_The season of spring is associated with the element air…there are two major festivals that occur during spring, Ostara and Beltane. Ostara marks the spring equinox…it is a time of fertility and abundance, a time of renewal and rebirth. _

_Beltane marks the passage of spring and the entrance of summer. It is a time when the veil between our world and that of the fae is particularly thin. Beltane is a time to honour life. It marks the return of vitality, of passion…_

* * *

As March approached the castle, the level of work the teachers began piling on to the eighth years became unbearable. Even though the year had been truncated – with absolutely no chance of N.E.W.T.S taking place until next June – the teachers did not let up on the students at all, determined that they would be well prepared for when they actually had to write the tests.

It was in this atmosphere that Draco's latest gift reached Harry.

Harry was studying in the library, Hermione having decided that without the distraction of Voldemort, he and Ron were going to perform as well as she wanted this year, even if it killed the two of them in the process. Any attempt to escape was met with a sharp glare, and a knock on the head from two books Hermione had charmed to fly over the two boys.

When Draco's now familiar owl flew towards their table (somehow, it was clever enough to avoid Madam Pince), Hermione fixed the poor bird with one of her famous glares. The owl fluttered nervously at the evil look Hermione was giving it and, as soon as Harry had gotten the package it carried free, it beat a hasty retreat, Ron staring after it with a longing gaze.

Without the owl there to hold her attention, Hermione turned her temper on Harry.

'Tell Malfoy to send you his gifts during the night or in the morning Harry!' she whispered furiously, her quill tapping against parchment in an unconsciously irritated move. 'Disturbing our study time isn't going to help you at all!'

Seven years of experience had taught Harry that replying when Hermione was in her "study-commander" mode was only inviting trouble upon himself, so he ignored her in favour of opening the package.

The inside of the package made Harry think for a moment that Draco had bought out Scrivenshaft's supply of quills before he realized how silly he was being. But even after that, the selection of quills wouldn't have looked out of place in any top end stationary shop. It was enough to shock even Hermione out of her temper as she reached for a few of the more exotic looking quills.

Harry, however, turned his attention to the note that the package had also held. As much as he loved the gifts that Draco had been giving him, his favourite part of the entire process was the notes he included. Though far from romantic, he somehow still managed to convey his love and care for Harry through them.

_Harry,_

_Going by the way Granger is working you and the Weasel, I think it's fair to say that your stock of quills has taken a beating ever since exam preparation started. I doubt she'll be very happy if you run out of quills – I doubt any of the teachers would be too thrilled either – and I have very much doubt that you are aware of the fact that Scrivenshaft's has stopped its owl order service for this year as it rebuilds after the war._

_Do make sure to use the Peacock quills sparingly. They're made from the feathers of the peacocks found on the manor, and have the best and longest lasting spell-checking charms on them. Regardless of that, they WILL NOT LAST YOU FOREVER! Please use them only on work that is actually important, and not on those inane games of Hangman you play with the Weasel._

_These should last you until the next Hogsmeade weekend at the very least._

_Draco_

Harry smiled as he turned back to his work, selecting a pink Fwooper quills from among the ones Draco had given him. Draco might like to keep up his prickly personality even in his notes, but not even he could stop from giving out small tidbits of information through them. And what had slipped through this time was that he seemed to be as interested in, and maybe even obsessed with, Harry's daily routines as Harry was in Draco's.

* * *

By the time the Easter holidays came around, Hermione's breakfast lectures on the intricacies of Pureblood culture had become extremely popular among the Gryffindors, so much so that she was now using Harry and Ron as unwilling sounding boards before branching out to the old Muggle courtly traditions. Despite being as interested in the topic as Hermione, Harry had grown tired of the entire house looking over his shoulder for the next gift.

So when Astraeus – he'd finally found out Draco's owl's name – flew towards him during the morning post, he felt a pang of irritation. He really didn't want to share this part of his life with all the Gryiffindors.

That faded, however, when he noticed that everyone's attention was fixated on Hermione, and no one was giving him a second glance. Looking around once more to make sure that no one was paying him any attention, he reached for the slim, rectangular box tied to the owl's legs.

Mechanically feeding Astraeus a few pieces of his bacon, Harry opened the box to find a bouquet of beautifully sculpted glass flowers. Playing with them, he wondered what Draco had meant by this particular gift – it didn't seem in keeping with the inadvertently romantic gifts he'd sent till now, and this one had come without a note.

'They're symbolic,' a quiet voice said on his side.

Harry jerked his head to the side, only to realize that Neville had sat down unnoticed it the place next to him.

'That's why he sent them to you,' Neville continued, undeterred by Harry's look of surprise. 'Each of the flowers has a symbolic meaning attached to it in the language of flowers.'

Almost against his wish, Harry is intrigued.

'So what do these mean? And for that matter, which flowers are they?'

Neville pulled at the ribbon holding the glass flowers together, and separated three of them from the rest, before turning his attention to those he had not put aside.

'The red carnation represents deep romantic love, the forget-me-not stands for true love. The germanium says 'I love you over all others.' The honeysuckle and the lemon blossom both stand for faithfulness. I think his intentions behind sending those flowers is pretty obvious, but it's these three flowers that have me intrigued.'

The three flowers that Neville had kept aside were beautiful – two white, and the last yellow.

'This one is agrimony,' Neville continued, reaching for the yellow flower. 'It commonly stands for gratitude. And the other two are the Star of Bethlehem and the asphodel. The asphodel stands for regret, and the Star for atonement. I'm not entirely sure why he included these two in the bouquet.'

Harry felt a curious mixture of elation and worry once Neville finished explaining. He was thrilled to have physical proof of Draco's love for him, the flowers carefully chosen for their meaning, but he also understood what else Draco was trying to say.

The asphodel was Draco's was of apologizing for his part in their animosity, and everything that had happened over the past two years. That would have been fine on its own, but the inclusion of the agrimony and the Star of Bethlehem worried him. They were a promise to do what it took to atone for his crimes, and thankfulness over the fact that Harry had forgiven him. But more than anything, for Harry, they were an indication of the fact that Draco still found it necessary to worry over events that Harry knew had been forced upon him.

He had hoped that his gift to Draco on Valentine's Day would have helped with his self-esteem issues – and maybe they had – but it was obvious that it hadn't been enough. There was nothing Harry could do until he had a believable excuse for doing anything big for Draco, which meant that he would have to bide his time until the other boy's birthday. In the meantime, he was determined to find a less obvious way that he could use to help Draco.

* * *

As the exams grew closer, Harry had finally decided that studying under a Hermione at full speed was going to do nothing for his results. Hermione ploughed through the portion at a pace that no one could keep up to, and Harry was sure that he and Ron were missing both important sections, along with valuable study time while humouring Hermione's desire to make sure they performed up to her expectations.

Ron, as the devoted boyfriend, had no visible means of escape for the near future, but that didn't mean that Harry had to be stuck by his side. In a dog-eat-dog world, or, in this case, a Hermione-eat-her-students world, it was every man for himself.

It had taken a bit of maneuvering – never had Harry been so grateful for his Slytherin side – but he had managed to get Hermione to agree to let him study separately.

As soon as he entered the library, hoping to find an empty table for himself, he noticed Draco sitting in one of the cozy armchairs at the library windows. He smiled to himself. Maybe this was his chance to start his battle with Draco's beliefs about how worthy he was for Harry.

He quickly walked towards Draco; aiming to reach him before the only other free armchair (which was, by lucky coincidence, just next to Draco) was filled. Reaching Draco, he fell back into the armchair with enough force that the chair creaked.

Draco jerked up to look at Harry, a startled look passing over his face.

'I thought you always sat with Granger and Weasley?' he asked, quickly returning his attention to the book in front of him.

'Hermione's study tactics could very well have been used as a torture device by Voldemort,' Harry replied with mock seriousness. 'I had to escape or risk going insane.'

Draco looked at a loss over what to reply to Harry. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, before he decided against speaking, instead offering Harry a half-smile.

They didn't say much after that short conversation, and Draco left almost immediately after both boys had packed up their books. Regardless of that, Harry thought that the time he had spent with Draco had been one of the best and most productive study sessions he had had during the year, and vowed to repeat the experience as soon as possible.

* * *

Harry was lounging in front of an old oak tree near the Black Lake when he felt himself being lifted in the air.

'Wh-What's going on?' he cried out, flailing around wildly.

'Oh shut up, Potter. It's only me.'

The snide voice was unmistakable. He let out a sigh of relief and stopped panicking.

'You know, telling me to get up would have given you the same result.'

'And where would have been the fun in that? Now come to the Quidditch Pitch with me.' Draco replied, putting Harry down on the grass.

'But it'll be empty right now! The Quidditch season's already over!'

'Exactly,' was Draco's exasperated reply.

'Oh.'

Harry quickly shut his mouth. He had no idea what had prompted Draco to willingly seek him out in order to spend some time with him, but he wasn't going to look a gift snake in the mouth. He focused, instead, on enjoying the rare time with Draco.

'Close your eyes,' was Draco's quick order once they reached the Pitch.

'Wh –' Harry quickly thought better of questioning Draco – he wouldn't get a clear reply anyways, and it may upset Draco too.

He shut his eyes, waiting for further instructions from the boy at his side. He could hear Draco murmuring spells under his breath, but he made sure that they weren't loud enough for Harry to hear.

'Okay, Harry. You can open your eyes now.'

Opening eyes, the first thing he noticed was Draco – but then, he always noticed Draco before anything else. The next thing he noticed was the new broom in Draco's arms. It looked like a Firebolt, but there enough visible differences that Harry immediately realized that it was a different broom altogether.

'What's that?' he asked, curiosity immediately piqued.

'Your next gift, Harry. Honestly, are you really that daft?'

'Is that a new Firebolt line?'

'Nope.'

'What is it then?'

'Weeellll…'

'Draco! Stop teasing!'

'It's a Stormbolt. It's originally a Firebolt, but it's been customized for Seekers. It's faster, and better at turning and diving than the Firebolt. And it's the only broom of the kind in the world – well, apart from the one I got for myself, of course.'

Harry just gaped at him. 'This is a custom made broom?'

'Yes it is. Like it?' Draco was blushing as he asked this question.

'Of course I do. It's gorgeous.'

Harry was about to get on the broom when he had a sudden idea.

'Can you summon your broom here too?'

'Yeah, of course I can. Why, though?'

'Well…if I'm testing this out, I want you to be up there with me.'

As both the boys took to the air, Harry couldn't help but think about how utterly normal this felt. It was as though they had been doing _this_ forever, instead of debating how best to kill each other. This – the easy acceptance, and the feeling of belonging with someone else – was all he had ever wanted in his life.

* * *

It was on 30th April that Spring's last gift reached Harry. For the first time since this giving of gifts had started, he was completely alone when a gift reached him. Hermione had vanished with Dean, muttering about uncompleted homework and the idiocy of the boys she tutored. Ron had lost a chess game for the first time in nearly eight years last week (and to a little Muggleborn firstie!) and was currently in the library for a change, looking up old forgotten chess moves. He was determined to find a way to beat the little girl the next time they played.

And he had absolutely no clue where Draco was. He was pretty sure that the other boy had been trying to avoid him ever since they left the Quidditch Pitch after their impromptu match on the Stormbolts, but he wasn't too sure about that. Draco had taken to spending a good chunk of him time alone ever since the start of the school year, so it was entirely possible that Harry had just misconstrued the entire situation.

Whatever the matter, it all resulted in Harry being alone by the fire when Astraeus reached him. He was almost certain that the owl was utterly annoyed by the entire "playing the messenger" business, judging by the way he flew off as soon as Harry removed the bulky package.

The note that accompanied the package seemed longer this time, so Harry opened it before he tore off the paper wrapping the mysterious item.

_Dear Harry,_

_I thought I'd explain the significance behind the gift this time – I'm not too sure how much Granger will know about it, as it pertains to old Pureblood tradition, and Weasley's family have practically forgotten the old ways._

_Tomorrow is Beltane, and like Halloween, it is thought to be a time when the veil between worlds is particularly thin. Unlike Halloween however, is the fact that the tomorrow, the veil will thin between our world and the world of the fae._

_The fae are tricksters at heart – but particularly vicious tricksters, who would like nothing more than to take over our world. Long ago, the entrance between our world and theirs was sealed away with powerful magic, but they are always looking for a wizard with strong magic they can use to break through the barrier._

_You may not have noticed, but ever since you publically claimed ownership of the Elder Wand, your magical power has increased drastically, even if you do not use the wand. Beltane would be a particularly dangerous time for you – it increases a wizard's susceptibility to the tricks of the fae._

_This statue has been carved from a mixture of wood from rowan and willow trees. Rowan ensures protection and willow increases mental and psychic energies. Apart from that, both help in quickening healing. This should help protect you tomorrow, and the healing powers will be helpful regardless of the Beltane._

_Draco_

_P.S – I haven't been avoiding you, you moron. Hand carving something like this takes time._

Harry opened the plain brown paper wrapping what he now knew to be a sculpture, and gasped at the sight of the item inside. It was a beautifully carved faerie, depicted the way Muggles thought them to be. Unlike the Muggle portrayals, this faerie was undoubtedly male.

As Harry traced the lines of the wood, he couldn't help but wonder at the amount of time and effort Draco must have spent making the item. He hadn't needed to make it this exquisite – a simple carving would have done just as well. Yet the handiwork told Harry that this wasn't his first sculpture; there was not doubt he had made (and discarded) many pieces before this perfect one. Not for the first time, Harry was left awestruck at the dedication that Draco was showing him.

* * *

**A/N: Draco's owl's name - Astraeus - is the name of the Greek Titan of stars and planets, and the art of astrology. I think that's particularly appropriate considering the Black tradition of naming children after stars/constellations/etc.**

**All the connotations of the flowers in this chapter are real.**

**Updates are unfortunately going to be a bit slower, because I have exams coming up, and need to study for them. But don't worry, I don't plan on abandoning this story.**

**Thank you to all of you who have followed/favourited this story. Please R&R on your way out, I'll love to hear your opinions on the story.**

**SHAMELESS SELF-PLUG!**

**If anyone's interested, please check out my other stories. I've got a couple of Harry/Draco ones, a few General ones, and a Sirius/Remus one up. Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm so sorry! This chapter should have been up two weeks ago, but Harry was being stubborn and giving me difficulties.**

**Now beta'd :)**

**As it is, have an extra long chapter as an apology!**

* * *

**SUMMER**

_Summer is associated with the element fire, and the festival of Litha and Lamnas. Lamnas, or Lughnasadh, which takes place 1st August marks the transition of summer to autumn._

_The element fire is associated with a number of ritual actions, including the making or commissioning of decorations, and cauldron work. Animals associated with fire include the phoenix and the snake. Lightning and gold is also associated with fire._

* * *

As spring waned and summer waxed, Hogwarts entered the examination season. Hermione, certain that they were all going to fail miserably, forced Harry and Ron into even more study sessions, and nothing Harry said could get him out of them any more.

After one such session, Harry climbed up the stairs to his dormitory room, exhausted. Hermione was pushing them more and more each day, practicing not only theory as she once had, but also the actual spells themselves.

Collapsing into his bed, Harry noticed a large package on his side table, one which had definitely not been there before. It had undoubtedly been left there by Astraeus – the note stuck on top of the wrapping clearly indicated it was from Draco.

Thrilled not only at seeing something from Draco, but also by the fact that his day had not been a _complete_ waste (it was extremely difficult to understand what Hermione was saying most of the time nowadays), Harry reached to open the note.

_Dear Harry,_

_If what I've been hearing is true, you've decided to completely redecorate the old Black house. Assuming what Mother has told me about it is true, I cannot blame you._

_The last time we spoke to each other (and it's been too long, tell Granger that you need to spend some time away from books too), you told me you wished we had a picture together. I still think that you're as emotional as a girl, but Merlin forbid, it seems you're rubbing off on me._

_This isn't a photograph, but considering the time I spent sitting for it and describing you to the artist, it better suffice. At the very least, your new house will have some class among all the gaudy decorations Weasley will no doubt help you pick out._

_Draco_

The package contained a beautiful painting of the two of them. They were wearing formal dress robes, and for a moment Harry wondered how the painter had managed to capture him in robes of much better quality than he owned. That thought was quickly lost as he realized the time and effort Draco must have put into posing for the painting.

It was a quiet promise – that they would last long enough that the portrait could find a permanent place in his home, in what would hopefully become _their_ home. It was a symbol of Draco's hope for both permanency and a shared home.

Beyond that, it was also an indication that Draco was finding a sense of self-worth once again. This was enough to warm Harry's heart. As much as he loathed to admit it, he was falling in love with Draco, and he hated to see him so far removed from the person he had once been.

He quickly charmed the wrapping paper once again before sending it off to Kreacher with very specific instructions. This would take the place of Mrs Black's horrid portrait in the entrance to the house. It would be a memory of love instead of hatred – a fitting symbol for a new beginning in his life.

* * *

Harry was, in many ways, a stereotypical man, as Hermione loved to remind him.

It was a few days before the exams, and Hermione had finally decided to take pity on Harry and Ron, announcing a break for an hour. Ron, of course, immediately busied himself with finding a house elf who would bring the trio something to eat. One of the many drawbacks of studying with Hermione was that she seemed to forget that people had basic requirements, like food, or sleep.

As soon as Ron was out of earshot, Hermione turned to Harry, a frown on her face. 'What are you getting Draco for his birthday, Harry? It will have to something special if you plan to outdo what you did for Valentine's Day.' Her voice turned dreamy at the last statement. Somehow, the eighth year girls had found out about his gift to Draco, elevating him to the level of "ideal boyfriend" which was previously occupied only by Draco. This position was accompanied by wistful sighs every time they saw him, which was starting to grate on Harry's nerves.

'What do you mean, birthday? There's quite a lot of time for that, Hermione!'

Hermione gave him an exasperated look. 'It's on June 5th, Harry. Two days after the end of the exams, and just under two weeks from today. You might want to think of something fast.'

Hermione, unfortunately, was right. With only two weeks to think of a gift, most of which he would be spending giving his year-end exams, Harry was stumped. He would definitely have gotten into trouble, having no gift to give Draco, when Dean of all people saved the day for him.

Seamus was out on yet _another_ date with yet _another_ girl when Harry heard Dean cursing a blue streak.

'What the bloody hell does a boy have to do to get his crush to see he's interested around here? Where's the Felix Felicis when you need it? Bloody Seamus and his bloody dates, no…' Harry quickly tuned the rest of Dean's exclamation out; especially since it mainly consisted of extremely colourful swear words.

However, what little he had heard had given him the perfect idea for Draco's present. A vial of Felix Felicis, like the one he had won from Slughorn in sixth year, consisting of twelve hours' worth of liquid luck.

A quick letter to the potioneers who brewed the potions George needed for Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes ensured that a vial would arrive in time for Draco's birthday. It may not have been cheap, but Draco was not the only rich person in their relationship.

On the day before Draco's birthday, Harry made sure to bump into him when they were alone in the Charms corridor.

'Meet me in your room first thing tomorrow?' he asked Draco.

Draco gave him a suspicious look, before replying. 'Of course I will Potter. You know I wouldn't say no to a meeting with you alone.'

Standing outside the room in the dungeons, Harry was extremely nervous. He didn't know if Draco would think of the Felix Felicis as a relic of a year he would rather forget, or if he would understand the sentiment behind the gift.

When Draco opened the door to the room, Harry immediately wrapped his arms around him. It was rare that he got to hold Draco in his arms like this – he wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste.

'Happy birthday,' he whispered into Draco's ear. Releasing him, he noticed the pleased (and slightly dopey) smile on Draco's face as he pulled the potion vial from his pocket and thrust it towards the other boy. 'I hope you like your gift.'

The golden colour of the potion made it impossible for it to be mistaken for anything other than Liquid Luck.

'Harry,' Draco whispered reverently, 'Is this –'

'It's Felix,' Harry confirmed, happiness bubbling up in him at the sight of Draco's awe-struck face. 'I thought you might want to use it for one of those potions I _know_ you're trying to develop.'

Draco looked up at him, eyes shining. Before Harry knew what was happening, he was wrapped in a tight hug. Being held by Draco in this way was something that was even rarer than being given the chance to hold Draco. As Harry closed his eyes, savouring the feeling of Draco wrapped around him, he couldn't help but think that it was him who had gotten the better gift today.

(The peck on his cheek as they left the room simply made him certain that he had gotten the better share.)

* * *

Once the Leaving Feast was taken care of, and the rest of the school sent on their way home, the eighth years had a lot more free time, even considering the added duties of restoring the castle. This meant that Harry now had more time to see Draco in person than during the school year – Hermione had stopped with her quest to educate him and Ron for the moment.

It was while helping clean up one of the piles of rubble in the forgotten corridors of the school that Draco dragged Harry away. They walked for what seemed like hours, taking turns and passages that even Harry didn't recognize; for all that he nearly memorized the Marauders' Map while on the run.

When they stop, it was in the dungeons. They were nowhere near either the Slytherin common room or Draco's room, and Harry suspected that they were in one of the areas Snape used for his private brewing.

Draco whispered something in Latin to what seemed like a solid stone wall, which immediately opened to reveal a Potions laboratory. It was both well stocked and already prepared for the brewing of some unknown potion.

An insistent Draco dragged Harry into the room, who was still clueless as to why he had been brought there.

When they were in front of the cauldron, Draco finally turned to Harry. 'I'm going to make sure you don't fail Potions next year, Harry.'

Harry was confused. How did his skills – or lack of them – in Potions affect Draco? Before he could voice his thoughts, Draco cut him off.

'This is my next gift to you. We both know you've given up on the idea of being an Auror after your N.E, but if do plan to be a Mediwizard, you need to have outstanding scores in Potions. And I'm the only student in the school who can beat Gra-Hermione in the subject. I'll make sure that it's more than your name that turns St. Mungo's head.

And look at it this way – it's a perfect way to spend time together, and Hermione can't say anything about it. You're technically studying, aren't you?'

At the sight of Draco's mischievous grin, Harry broke into a smile himself. He knew that he in for a hell of a time, studying Potions under _Draco_, but he was right. More than anything else, it was an excuse to be together – which was undoubtedly the main thing in Draco's mind when he decided on this particular gift.

Just like his gift of the portrait, this was another promise of permanency. Draco did not spend more time than he needed to with most people, and the fact that he was making time especially for the two of them to be together told Harry that the other boy was certain that he would not get bored of Harry soon. Draco was sure that he could spend long hours together with Harry – an encouraging sign if there ever was one.

* * *

'Get up Harry!" The insistent shaking of his body woke him up.

He groggily opened his eyes, staring up at the fuzzy figure on top of him. He blindly reached out, moving his hands around his bedside table looking for his glasses.

'Here,' the voice from above him said impatiently, handing his the elusive glasses. 'Now get up!'

As soon as he put them on, the blurred figure solidified. 'Hermione?' he mumbled dumbly. 'What are you doing here?'

'Well,' she scowled disapprovingly down at him, 'you mean apart from the fact that it's gone one o'clock in the afternoon, and you still aren't awake?'

'Wait, it's past one?' he asked incredulously.

'Yes, Harry. What is Merlin's name were you doing last night?'

Harry kept quiet. He didn't think she'd take the revelation that his and Draco's Potions lesson had gone a bit over time, and then he'd convinced Draco to take a midnight stroll with him in the grounds. Nothing had happened, of course, but he still doubted Hermione would appreciate it.

'Am I going to get an answer?' She was tapping her foot – that was _never_ a good sign, and he wasn't about to give her more of a reason to get angry.

'Well…'

'I thought as much. Anyways, there's a rather insistent owl circling your head, just in case you hadn't noticed him. Your roommates sent me in to wake you up – they were just about ready to kill the poor thing, but I convinced them it's not his fault you're a lazy ass.'

'Wait wh –' Looking up, he saw that Astraeus was indeed flying around his head, somehow managing to look rather peeved off.

He scrambled to sit up, before holding out his arm for the owl to land on.

'Sorry, boy,' he murmured, stroking his feathers.

Astraeus simply gave him a dirty look and, once the letter and package were removed from his foot, bent his beak to nip at Harry's fingers sharply before flying off.

Looking up, he saw that Hermione was still standing in front of him looking expectant.

'Well?' she asked.

'What?'

'Are you going to open it or not?'

'But, Hermione!'

'No,' she said sternly. 'I've just stopped your boyfriend's owl from becoming the target for spell practice courtesy of your idiotic friends. I've kept said friends away from you when you got the last few gifts. I think I deserve to see what you've got this time.'

At that, he quickly caved. She was right, anyways.

He opened the package to find a pair of cuff links. They were in the shape of an emerald snake wrapped around a gold lightning bolt, and it was rather easy to see how they were meant to represent him and Draco.

Before he jumped to any conclusions, however, he opened the letter with the package, Hermione reading over his shoulder.

_Dear Harry,_

_I think it should be rather obvious even to you that the snake is supposed to be me, and the lightning bolt, you. _

_In case you didn't get the symbolism of them being tangled together, it represents how our lives have been tangled together ever since we met at Diagon Alley all those years ago, and how they will continue to be tangled together._

_The next time you have to get dressed formally – and, as the Saviour, I have no doubt that that time will be rather soon – wear these along with that Muggle tuxdeo-thing you insist on wearing. A reminder of me, as it were._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

'Yes, I like this one. I like this one a lot.' Hermione said as soon as she finished reading the letter.

Harry simply grinned. It may not have been an explicit declaration of love, but Draco's feelings were obvious through the letter. It may have been slow, but at least it was progress.

* * *

It was to be expected that Harry would face a barrage of owls on his birthday, but, after the fiasco last year, Hermione had made sure to divert all owls not sent by a list of approved people to Kreacher. The house elf would discard of the many extremely inappropriate letters and items sent to him, and would then sort out any items that could be donated before sending them on to the newly constructed Wizarding orphanage.

So it was that on his 18th birthday, Harry awoke to only his typical number of presents. After opening everything from the regular crowd, Harry turned to the lone letter on top of the pile of presents.

_Dear Harry,_

_Meet me at Greenhouse Three._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

As Harry walked down the castle towards the greenhouses, he pondered the meaning behind Draco's cryptic letter. Having not received anything from him in the pile of merrily wrapped gifts, it was obvious that the other boy was calling him down to greenhouses to gift him his present. But what they could be was something that was confusing him.

Draco had already gone down the language-of-flowers route, and if there was one thing he despised, it was repeating himself. So the request – or order, really – to meet him in the greenhouses had piqued Harry's legendary curiosity.

'Hello, Harry,' Draco murmured as soon as he entered Greenhouse Three. 'Come here.'

Harry approached Draco, who was standing over a large flowering rose bush. There were roses in all colours imaginable. It should have looked excessive, but instead, it was simple gorgeous to look at.

Draco drew Harry in front of him, enveloping him from behind. 'These are a new breed of roses Professor Sprout has been developing,' he whispered in Harry's ear. 'She's still not come up with a formal name, so she simply calls them mood-changing roses for now. A bit of a misleading name – they do change colour according to mood, but it is according to what the giver feels for the receiver, not what said giver is feeling at any that moment in time.'

'So why've you called me to see them?' Harry asked, keeping as voice as quiet as Draco. Somehow, it felt like speaking any louder would ruin the intimacy of the moment.

Draco didn't answer verbally. Instead, he reached out to pluck one of the flowers, handing it to Harry. As soon as Harry's finger touched it, it turned from its original white to a deep red.

'I think the meaning of that is clear,' Draco breathed. 'Happy birthday.'

He turned Harry around to face him and pecked him on the lips. Before Harry could react, he was gone. Harry was left touching his lips, wondering if that had really happened. If not for the rose still clutched in his hand, he would have been convinced it was an illusion.

* * *

Hermione insisted that the last gift of Summer would be given to Harry on the day following his birthday. According to her, it was the last day of the season, and the start of Autumn, and Harry was not about to disbelieve her. Instead, he barricaded himself in his room.

The lovely thing about no formal classes was that there was no reason for Harry to leave the dorm, as long as he kept up with his work restoring the castle. And there was no way Harry was going to broadcast the latest gift to everyone. Hermione had gotten rather inquisitive following the cuff links, and he wasn't about to reveal anything else to her if he could help it.

As Hermione had predicted, Astraeus made his way to the dormitory during the afternoon. After incident involving the cuff links, the owl had been rather grumpy around Harry, keeping as far away from him as possible. As a peace offering, Harry had made sure to call for a few slices of bacon, which the owl practically pounced on once he saw them.

As he removed the letter and package, Harry turned his mind to the events of yesterday. It had definitely been his best birthday ever, but he couldn't help but worry that Draco would try to avoid him now. As strong as he seemed, sometimes Draco could be as skittish as a colt. But then, living with Voldemort for a year would affect anyone.

The letter had the words _READ FIRST!_ emblazoned across its front in bold letters, so Harry opened that first.

_Dear Harry,_

_Just because the Dark Lord is dead doesn't mean I trust you not to get yourself involved in another Dark versus Light battle, or, failing that, one of the many life threatening skirmishes you seem to have a special talent of getting into._

_The package holds a personalized portkey. It will work only for you, and then only when you say a specific phrase while holding onto it. In this case, the phrase is _amore omni asternitate_. It means a love for all eternity in Latin._

_You should know this – the portkey is partially powered by the magic used to make it, and partially by our feelings for each other. It would not work if we didn't love each other._

_Which brings me to what I wanted to tell you._

_I love you Harry. I fell in love with you a long time ago._

_Love, _

_Draco._

Harry traced the precious words of the letter with a disbelieving reverence. He had never doubted Draco's feelings for him, but to see it in writing – that was another experience altogether. It might take Draco forever to verbalize what he had just written down, but Harry didn't care. These words, more than anything, were the best present Draco could ever give him.

He would wear the gold bracelet shaped like a phoenix, of course. But as far as he was concerned, its worth lay not in its use as way to escape danger, but as a reminder of the most beloved words Draco could ever give him.

'I love you too, Draco,' he whispered into the silence of the room.

* * *

**A/N: The cuff links have the stone emerald, the metal gold, the snake and the lightning bolt on them. The latter three are associated with fire, which is, in tun, associated with summer (as I mentioned at the start of the chapter). Emerald is associated with Litha, which is one of the major festivals, or sabbaths, that occur during the summer.**

**All information has been found online - unfortunately, forbids me from linking, or I would do so.**

**I hope you've enjoyed this chapter :) Please review on your way out, I'd love to hear your thought on this.**

**As an added note - at some time in the future, I will probably add an omake from this chapter to my Harry/Draco drabble collection, Falling In Love In A Million Ways. I will make an announcement here when it is up, in case anyone wants to check it out, but in case I forget, keep an eye out for it.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I know this is late! I'm so, so sorry, I don't even have an excuse this time.**

**Would you believe me if I said all the plot-bunnies in my head wouldn't give me time to write this until I finished writing them? Because that's what happened.**

**Anyways, without further ado, here's chapter seven for you guys...**

* * *

**AUTUMN**

The_ season of autumn has long been associated with the element of water. Among other things, the element is associated with protection magic and mirror divination. Some of the gemstones associated with this month are aquamarine, pearl and amethyst._

_The festival Mabon falls during this season, usually on September 21__st__. However, the more well festival falling during this time is Samhain (popularly known as Halloween), which marks the end of autumn and the beginning of winter._

* * *

"Ello Awy. Uve gop n owb," Ron greeted Harry as he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Giving his best friend an amused look, Harry slowly counted down in his head.

_Three, two, one…_

"Ronald, that's disgusting! How many times do have to be told to swallow and _then_ talk?" Right on schedule, Hermione started lecturing Ron.

Taking a big gulp, Ron retored, "I said, clear as day, that Harry's got an owl. Are you happy now?"

"No, Ronal –"

Tuning Hermione and Ron's traditional breakfast argument off, Harry turned his attention to Astraeus, who was hovering patiently in front of his plate. If he didn't know better, Harry would have said that the owl looked as amused by his best friends' argument as he was.

The package in Astraeus' claws was much thinner than usual. Harry carefully tore into it, only to find a gleaming Chocolate Frog Card.

Before he could start to wonder what the symbolism behind the gift was, especially as Draco hadn't sent his customary note accompanying the card, he heard Ron start to choke from behind him.

Turning back to check on his best friend in alarm, he found that Ron was gaping at the card he held in his hand.

"Is – is that what I think it is?" Ron asked, the reverence in his tone usually reserved only for the greatest of Quidditch players.

"It's a Chocolate Frog Card," Harry answered, mystified by the look of obsession gracing Ron's face as he looked at the card in Harry's hand.

"That's not _just_ a Chocolate Frog Card, mate," Ron said, his tone still filled with awe, "that's a bloody Galleon Chocolate Frog Card!"

What's that?" Hermione asked, looking just as baffled as Harry felt.

"When the people who make Chocolate Frogs first decided to add collectible cards to their product, they released a couple of Frogs that cost a Galleon – much more than the price of a Frog at that time, which was a single Knut. In those Frogs were the first Chocolate Frog Cards – made with real gold foil. Over time, the originals have become collector's items – serious card collectors pay tens of thousands of Galleons for one of those. And I'm pretty sure you're holding the original Mirabella Plunkett Card, mate."

As Hermione gaped over the money Draco must have spent over the card, Harry turned the card over to read the witch's history.

_'Born in 1839, Mirabella Plunkett famously fell in love with a merman in Loch Lomond while on holiday. When her parents forbade her to marry him, she transfigured herself into a haddock and was never seen again.'_

Harry quickly turned his attention back to his breakfast to hide the slight moisture in his eyes. After nearly a year of courting, he knew Draco very well. And he knew exactly what Draco was trying to tell him.

It was a reassurance that nobody, not even the family he held so dear, was more important to him than Harry. And it was a promise of what he was willing to do if he ever had to choose between Harry and someone else.

* * *

"Hey," Harry said as he walked into the room in the dungeons Draco had claimed as his own.

"Hello, Harry," Draco said, turning back to smile as him. "Did you know that there are about a hundred books on your parents and their friends in the Hogwarts Library alone?"

Harry gaped at Draco. "No, I can't say I did," he replied, sounding both shocked at the number of books on his parents, and confused over the direction of the conversation.

"Most of it is completely false, of course," Draco continued, "but there are a few that have some true information hidden inside them. It took me a long time – and a lot of books – to find out the little piece of information that allowed me to get these made."

"Get what made?" Harry asked, still clueless. "Draco, what are you talking about? Why were you even looking for my parents' history in the first place?"

"Why doesn't matter. It's what I found in there that matters."

"Draco, wh -?"

Draco turned around, a pair of gleaming objects in his hand. When he handed one to Harry, Harry realised that it was a mirror. Combined with what Draco had been saying about his past –

"Draco, are these – are these _two-way mirrors_?" Harry asked in a hushed tone, awed and slightly shocked at the power that must have gone into them to make them. Hermione had once given him and Ron a lecture on how to go about making the mirrors when they were considering using them during the Horcrux hunt. She had claimed it was practically impossible to make a pair without a quartet of _extremely_ powerful wizards – which was what the Marauders had done. So the fact that Draco had gotten these made for the two of them –

"I thought it would a great way for us to talk whenever we wanted to," Draco said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Do you like them?"

Looking up from the mirrors to the precious boy in front of him, Harry quickly walked towards Draco in three long steps.

"I love them," he whispered, wrapping his arms around Draco and pulling him in for a hug. He wanted nothing more than to kiss him properly, instead of that peck all those months ago, but he wasn't going to do anything against Courting protocol. He knew just how much this meant to Draco. So instead, he said the only thing he could that would come near explaining what Draco meant to him.

"I love _you_," he whispered.

* * *

"Harry, you've got an owl," seemed to have become a rather common greeting over the course of the past few months.

Everyone knew that the arrival of Astraeus meant another gift from Draco, and every time it happened in public, Harry was sure to be mobbed by scores of interested Gryffindors.

So when Harry entered the shared Common Room one night to find Astraeus being cooed over by Parvati and Lavender, he knew exactly what was waiting for him.

And sure enough –

"Oi, it's Harry!" Seamus' shout resulted in Harry quickly being surrounded by eager Gryffindor eighth-years, Astraeus being brought over by the two girls.

"Go on, Harry, open it!" Parvati encouraged.

"Guys –" Harry started.

"Don't bother trying, mate," Ron's amused voice came from somewhere in the back. "You know they won't leave you alone until they find out what's in that package."

Parvati shrugged at Ron's words. "It's true," she said. "The faster you open it, the faster you get rid of us."

At the nods that accompanied Parvati's statement, Harry sighed in defeat, reaching for the package Astraeus carried.

"You know Id rather not –" he tried once again.

"You know we're not going to leave, Harry," Lavender said. "You might as well just open it."

Finally giving up, Harry opened the package with nimble fingers. Inside it was a bright blue piece of aquamarine nestled in the strap of a rather expensive looking watch.

As his friends gapped the watch, uttering soft exclamations of awe as it was passed around, Harry gently opened the letter that had accompanied the gift.

_Dear Harry,_

_I know you've been worried a lot lately about your fame. I know you sometimes wonder if some of your friends are your friends because they care about you for who you are, or because they want to be famous by association._

_I absolutely hate seeing you like this._

_The watch is my solution to your problem._

_Oh, don't look so astounded. I promise you I haven't gone insane. _

_The aquamarine on the watchstrap is something like an emotion detector. It will start glowing when the person you're talking to is feeling rather – exploitative, shall we say._

_Basically, if someone wants to use your fame for their own benefit, it will warn you._

_It's not perfect – some people can, and most probably will slip through the cracks – but it will help._

_Maybe you'll stop worrying so much now._

_Love,_

_Draco._

Harry closed his eyes, trying to prevent himself from breaking out into tears.

The amount of thought and love Draco had obviously put into this gift was something Harry almost couldn't comprehend. For someone who had spent much of his life trying to keep other people safe, the care Draco was taking of him was overwhelming.

He quickly grabbed the watch from Dean and fastened it around his wrist. The rest of his friends would only ever see it as another gift from Draco, but to him, it would be constant reminder of just how much he was loved.

* * *

"Are you _sure_ you don't want to come Harry? You can still change your mind, you know. I'm pretty sure you packed your dress robes," Hermione asked him, concern evident on her face.

Harry smiled up at her reassuringly. "I'm sure, Hermione. You go on and have fun with Ron."

"Harry –" she began, chewing on her lip in worry.

"It's okay, Hermione. Even if I did come, I wouldn't dance with anyone but Draco, and we both know that that isn't possible, what with all the rules surrounding the Courtship. Besides, he's not going either. The two of us are planning on having a quiet night of study in the Common Room since it's going to be free of everyone."

"If you're sure –"

"I am."

"Well, okay then," she conceded, starting to move towards the entrance, "but remember, you can still come late to the Ball if you want to."

Harry looked at the empty spot left by Hermione and sighed. He hadn't wanted to tell her the real reason he wasn't going to the Halloween Ball. As much as the situation with Draco had played a part in his decision, his main cause for not going was the fact that the night was too painful for him to celebrate.

After what he had seen in Voldemort's mind during the Horcrux hunt – _all_ the events surrounding his parents' death – Halloween had become an open wound for him, and he wasn't in the mood of going to Ball and pretending to have fun.

When he had told Draco about it, he had simply nodded and helped him formulate a plausible excuse so that Hermione and Ron wouldn't worry.

He let out another sigh, before getting up to collect his things. He hadn't been lying about his planned study session at the least – Draco had insisted that he spend the night finishing his homework instead of wasting it moping.

When he walked into the Common Room, he found Draco already sitting on one of the armchairs by the fire, waiting for him.

"Hey," Harry said as he approached Draco, "how long have you been waiting here?"

"Not long," Draco replied, looking down at his lap.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, concern evident in his voice.

Draco bit his lip, nerves starting to bleed into his voice. "I just – it's nothing."

"Dray, what's wrong?" Harry asked, all the more worried now. Draco _never_ hid things from him anymore.

Draco sighed heavily. "I've got your last gift of autumn with me, and I don't know if I'm overstepping my boundaries by getting this for you."

Harry sat down on the armchair facing him and took Draco's hand in his. "I don't think you _have_ any boundary with me, Draco," he said gently. "I'm not going to get angry over whatever this is, I promise."

Draco looked at him, still doubtful. He reached behind him and pulled out of cylindrical container. Opening it, he removed a rolled up piece of heavy canvas from it and handed it to Harry.

"Here you go," he said. He made a move to get up from his armchair. At Harry's wounded look, he continued. "I think you need to be alone to look at this. Let me know if you like it."

Before he could move, Harry reached out to grab his arm and pulled him down onto the chair. "I'd rather open this with you."

"Harry –"

"Tell you what, Draco, before I open it, why don't you tell me what it is? It might make you feel better…"

"Harry –"

"I hate seeing you like this, Draco, you know that."

Draco sighed in defeat. "Do you remember when you were telling me about what you saw in the Dark Lord's head?" he began tentatively.

At Harry's nod, he continued. "I dislike seeing you upset, you know that. And, while I can't give your parents back, I thought I could give a piece of them."

"Draco, what are you talking about?"

"The painting you're holding – it's a portrait of them, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. You can easily change it to a magical portrait in the future if that's what you wanted. I thought – I thought you'd like the option of being able to speak with your parents, godfather and Professor Lupin again someday."

Harry opened the painting with trembling fingers. It was a beautiful painting, his parents and their friends smiling up at him. They looked just as they had when they ha appeared to him in the Forest as he walked to his death.

A part of him wondered just how Draco had known how to depict them so perfectly, but mostly, he was just awestruck at what he was cradling in his hands.

He quickly summoned the container it had been in and placed it back inside, not wanting it to be damaged before he had a chance to frame it and transform it into a magical portrait.

He then turned his attention to Draco, who was looking more and more worried every second Harry did not say anything.

"Draco?"

"Harry?"

"It's perfect," Harry breathed. He walked to Draco and, adjusting him so that he had place to sit, curled up at Draco's side. "I love you," he whispered, looking up at Draco adoringly.

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry, letting out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh of relief.

"I love you too," he murmured.

* * *

**Hope you liked it :)**

**Please review on your way out. I'd love to hit a hundred reviews with this story, and if I do, I'll write the hundredth reviewer at Drarry story based on their headcanon. It'll be _at least_ a 1000 words, I promise. How's that for motivation?**

**Also, does anyone have any ideas for what the final collection of 19 gifts should include? I've got about ten, but I'm a bit stumped right now, and I'd love to hear your contributions...leave it in a review or a PM of you have anyideas :)**

**Note: The information on Mirabella Plunkett is taken from her Chocolate Frog Card on Pottermore. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the delay!**

**This chapter just refused to come out the way I wanted it :(**

**So, here we go...**

* * *

**WINTER – Part 2**

_Winter is associated with the element of earth and all that goes along with it…_

_…of the many magics associated with the element earth are the magics inherent in gardening, along with the magic found in crystal works._

* * *

"Harry?"

Harry turned away from the window to look at Draco, who was approaching him cautiously.

"Hey," he whispered, voice hoarse from unshed tears.

"I hate seeing you like this," Draco said, pulling harry into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "it's just that –"

"I know, love," Draco said soothingly. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Harry shook his head, still cradled in Draco's arms. "It's okay. I need to talk about it, and, to be truthful, I _want_ to talk about it."

"Come on, then. We'll sit down and talk."

Draco led Harry to the loveseat in front of the fire, immediately pulling the other boy back into his arms once the two of them sat down. He stroked Harry's hair, waiting patiently for him to begin speaking.

"It's Sirius' birthday today," Harry began, voice already starting to quiver. "And I can't help but wonder how today would have been in Sirius was alive. I only really had two years with him that I remember, and I hate that. I hate that I never really knew my godfather – the person who's supposed to be like my father – at all, and I hate that I was cheated of that. It's just not _fair_, Draco," Harry concluded, whimpering by the end of his speech.

Draco wrapped Harry just a bit tighter. "I know," he whispered, "I know that that's not fair to you. You should have grown up with your godfather, not those disgusting Muggle relatives of yours. You shouldn't have only found out about him in our third year."

"I just – sometimes it seems like the only ones who remember him are the people in the Order. My parents, Cedric, everyone who died during the Final Battle – they're remembered as heroes. But it seems like no one remembers Sirius and the sacrifices he made to keep me safe."

"Come here," Draco said, tugging Harry up from the sofa. "I wasn't planning on showing you this for a few weeks, but I think now would be the perfect time."

"What –?"

"Shh," Draco said, cutting off Harry's curious questions. "You'll see."

He led Harry back to the window he had been looking out of when Draco came into the Common Room.

"Draco, wh –"

"Look there," Draco said, pointing to patch of land near the Black Lake. From what Harry could see, there were piles of mud all around a hole in the ground, and he could just make out Hagrid, looking tiny from so far away, still digging away.

"I don't get it. What's so special about Hagrid digging a hole?"

"I spoke to McGonagall yesterday. Told her exactly what you just told me – that our world seems to be forgetting the victims of the Death Eaters who didn't die in a spectacular, make-the-history-books fashion, and who even those who are remembered are only remembered for their deaths, not their sacrifices. We're planting a tree there, as a gift from me to you. A memorial to the ones who suffered and sacrificed the most to bring about Voldemort's defeat – your parents, Black and Lupin."

Harry looked at Draco in shock, tears rising in his eyes once again, scrambling for something to say, a way to thank him for the incredibly touching gesture. But it seemed that Draco already knew what Harry was feeling, because he pulled the smaller boy in to gently peck him on his lips, whispering, "I love you."

* * *

"Do you _have_ to go?"

"Draco, stop whining. You sound like a five year old child," Harry said laughingly.

At that, Draco pouted. _"Haaarrryyy!"_

"You know I have to go, Dray. I haven't been to visit the Weasleys in ages, and ever since McGonagall extended the Christmas break, Mrs Weasley's been after Hermione and me to visit. They're the only family I have, and I really want to see them."

Unable to come up with a good reply for that, Draco settled for alternating between pouting and glaring at Harry.

"I'll be back before you know," Harry continued, completely ignoring Draco's petulant behaviour.

"You're not back till Christmas eve, Harry. That's not "before I know it," that's _forever_!"

"Stop it Dray," Harry said fondly, tapping Draco on the back of his head in warning. "Besides, didn't you want to help me get dressed?"

"Fine," Draco said, still pouting. He started to make his way up towards his bed, calling as he went, "but just for the record, I'm still not happy about this!"

"I _know_, Draco. You've told me that about a hundred times in the last hour."

"You're mean!" Draco retorted from where he was rifling through his bedside table.

"And I'd just love to see the look on your father's face if he ever heard you say that. "You're mean?" Honestly Draco, that was weak even for you," Harry replied, the teasing evident in his voice to make sure that Draco knew that he wasn't being serious.

"If you're going to be that way, I'm not giving you this," Draco replied mock threateningly, making his way back to stand in front of Harry.

Harry stared at the little pin Draco was holding, genuinely curious. "What is it?"

"Are you sure you want to hear my childish explanation?" Draco asked, unwilling to let the previous discussion go.

"I'm sorry, Dray. You know I didn't mean it. Now, what is it?"

"You're incorrigible, you know that right?" Draco said, shaking his head at Harry's antics.

He opened his palm, letting Harry see the little pin clearly. It was in the shape of a familial crest of some kind. The actual shield was divided into equal half's, one ruby red and the other emerald green. Looking closely, Harry realised that those words didn't just describe the colours, but the stones used to make those parts of the pin.

At the forefront of the crest was a stylized animal of some kind that Harry couldn't quite place. Again, it was made from precious metals and stones; making it clear to Harry that this was the last of the ordinary gifts Draco was to give him.

"It's the Potter family crest," Draco said, easily realising that Harry had absolutely no idea of the significance of the design.

"What's the animal at the front?" Harry asked, eyes gleaming at the thought of learning something new about his family.

"A stylized Chimera," Draco replied, fixing the pin over the pocket of Harry's shirt. "It's turns out it's not only you who's the do-gooder kind, it's your entire family. According to stories, the idea behind this crest is the wish for peace.

The Chimera is made up of parts of a lion, snake and goat. The lion in the crest stands for Gryffindor, the snake for Slytherin, and the goat for the healing your ancestors wanted to see between the two houses. That's why the background is red and green – it's another symbol of peace between the houses.

Your family has had members in both houses, and the story goes, the enmity the houses were supposed to show to each other bothered William Potter, the man who designed this, so much that he swore that his family would see peace brought between them once again, and wore his promise on his crest for everyone to see.

Your mother was said to be the perfect human representation of this wish – a Gryffindor who was willing to make friends with Slytherins and defend them from unprovoked attacks, and with the temper of the beast to boot. Personally, I think you fit it better. After all, if anyone can manage to stop the feud between the houses, it's going to be you – you're reckless enough to attempt it, and sneaky enough to succeed. The perfect blend of Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Anyways," Draco concluded, smoothing out the wrinkles on Harry's clothes, "don't you have to meet Hermione soon?"

"I love you, you know that right?" Harry asked, finding himself suddenly unwilling to leave.

"Yes, I do," Draco smiled.

Harry pulled Draco in for a final kiss before dragging the other boy down to the Common Room with him.

"This doesn't mean you're getting out of seeing me off, you know that right?"

"Still not happy about this."

The only reply Draco got was laughter.

* * *

**Hope you liked it :)**

**Please review on your way out. The offer a story of at least a 1000 words for the 100th reviewer still stands :)**

**Also, I still need ideas for the final gifts, so keep them coming :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**This is just a necessary filler chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyhow!**

**Sorry of the lack of Draco here!**

* * *

The moment Harry walked out of the fireplace with Hermione by his side, Mrs Weasley bustled over to wrap him in a tight hug.

"Oh! Look at you! You've grown so thin!" she exclaimed, looking him over once before pulling him back into her arms. She seemed torn between excitement at finally seeing him again and worry over the way Hogwarts was apparently underfeeding him.

Harry awkwardly patted her on the back, unable to say anything through the tight hug.

"Now, now, Molly," Mr Weasley's jovial voice reached his ears. "You may want to let go of Harry before you suffocate him."

"Oh! You!" Mrs Weasley quickly released him, turning her attention to her smiling husband.

As she started to berate him, Ron bounded down, having heard Mrs Weasley's exclamations.

Sneaking a quick glance to make sure that his mother was occupied, he started to herd Harry and Hermione up the stairs to him rooms. "Come on, before she notices," he whispered.

As he snuck up to Ron's room like he had done many times before, Harry felt a genuine smile start to blossom on his face. He hated leaving Draco behind, but this was the first place he could remember where he felt like he could be himself. This was _home_ to him, and it was a place he needed to be.

And who knew – maybe next time, he'd be bringing Draco here with him.

* * *

A few days with the Weasleys had been exactly what Harry needed. As much as he loved Hogwarts, it was also a place where he under constant scrutiny by the students who didn't know him well enough to realise that at heart, he was just another ordinary wizard.

At the Burrow however, there was no one looking at him with expectations or hero worship in their eyes, forcing him to constantly try to be on his best behaviour. The only thing that it was missing was Draco.

But as soon as thoughts of the blond haired boy entered his mind, Harry banished them. He would see Draco soon enough, and the last thing he wanted was to spoil the few days he had with the Weasleys with thoughts of how much he missed his almost-boyfriend.

"Thinking deep thoughts, Harry?" a deep voice broke through his internal monologue. Harry looked up to see Charlie Weasley standing in front of him, waiting for him to move up the sofa so that he could sit.

"No, not at all," he said, moving to make space for Charlie. "Just -"

"You miss Mal-sorry, Draco, don't you?" The Weasleys had taken to referring to Draco by his first to assure Harry that they had no problems with the fact that he was courting a boy who was their son in everything but blood.

In fact, Mrs Weasley had been thrilled when she'd heard that Draco and Harry were all but a couple. After the reasons for him being Marked as a Death Eater had come out during the trial, she had developed a soft spot for him. According to her, the only reason he had behaved the way he did during the Hogwarts years was because he's 'never had a chance to be anything different."

It was a sentiment Harry wholly supported. That didn't stop him from being surprised that that was the view of a family who had been feuding with the Malfoys for generations. He wasn't stupid enough to say it in front of-

"And…I've lost you again," Charlie's voice once again interrupted his thoughts.

Shaking his mind clear of thoughts of Draco, he turned to give Charlie a rueful smile.

"Sorry. It's just -"

"It's okay," Charlie grinned, "I understand. Bill acted exactly the same way about Fleur until a few months into their marriage."

"Yeah, but it's been nearly a year since Draco's been courting me," Harry protested, "I should be able to concentrate on something that isn't him."

"It's about how long you've been in love with someone, Harry. It's simply the fact that you are in love that tends to make people forget the outside world. Hell, Bill _still_ forgets the fact that other people exist sometimes, and he's been married to Fleur for two years, and was dating her for the same amount of time before that."

"Still…I feel bad. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Harry asked curiously, finally turning his full attention towards Charlie.

"Nothing, really," Charlie said, sound a little sheepish. "Just wanted to check if you're okay, if you're happy with him."

"I am," Harry said sincerely, touched by the fact that Charlie – the Weasley he knew least of all – cared enough about him to make sure that he was that was content and happy in his relationship. "I truly am," he repeated, naked honesty and every feeling he had for Draco evident in his voice. "Draco's…he's brilliant. I know it sounds cheesy, be he and I, we just…I don't know, we _fit_. Thanks for checking up on me, though."

Charlie looked faintly surprised at being thanked. "I'm glad you're happy with him, I really am. But there's no need to thank me. You're like a little brother to me, Harry," he said. "As far as I'm concerned, you're a Weasley in all but blood. And Weasleys take care of their own. If it weren't for the fact that we thought you wouldn't take it well, you'd have the entire Weasley clan here, interrogating you on the intricacies of whatever you and Draco have."

"Yeah, it was probably a good thing you'll didn't do that,' Harry laughed imaging the scene if all the Weasley children had decided to question him. He had no doubt that he would have become extremely defensive and clammed up immediately.

"Anyways," Charlie said as he got up from his seat next to Harry and started to walk away, "that's basically what I wanted to talk to you about. I'll give you fair warning though – expect this to be repeated several times over the next few days. I don't think you'll be allowed to leave until everyone is satisfied that you're truly happy."

"Thanks for the heads up!" Harry called to the retreating Weasley.

He hadn't realised how much he had missed the sense of camaraderie, friendship and family that he had always found in this house until that moment. And yet, the only thing he could think of was that he wanted nothing more than to be able to share it with Draco.

That was when Harry decided that no matter what, he would be bring Draco with him the next time he visited the Weasleys. As much as he loved it here, he only had a part of his family with him. The biggest piece of it – the man he loved – was in another picture altogether, but he'd make sure to bring together the two separate parts of his life if it was the last thing he did.

After all, if Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger could develop a friendship – no matter how odd it may have been – for his sake over the course of a year, Harry was certain that he could bridge the gap between the Weasleys and that particular Malfoy by the time graduation came around.

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**Hope you liked it!**

**Please don't forget to leave a review on your way out (:**

**By the way, still taking suggestions for the final gifts. The next chapter will be the first of two chapters on the final gifts that Draco gives, so as soon as I know all the gifts for certain, I'll start with it (:**


	10. Chapter 10

**I am perfectly aware I've been horrid at updating, and I apologise! Unfortunately, all inspiration I had for this fic went flying out of the window for the last couple of months. But I'm hoping to get in an update a week now, so this should go faster :)**

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"Oh, Harry, I wish you were staying for Christmas," Mrs Weasley fussed as Harry gathered his things.

Harry threw a smile at the woman who was, for all means and purposes, his second mother. "I have to get back to Draco, Mrs Weasley," he said, "But I promise you I'll stay next year. I'll even bring Draco along!"

"You do that," the woman said sternly, wagging her finger at him. "Stop keeping that boy all to yourself, you hear me? We want to meet him too!"

"Of course," Harry laughed, moving closer to her to give her a hug.

"Oh, I'm just being silly," Mrs Weasley said after a moment, freeing Harry from her tight grip. "But I will miss you, Harry. You aren't going so long without coming to visit us, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mrs Weasley," Harry replied, sufficiently cowed.

"Good. Now go, that boy of yours will be waiting!"

With a handful of Floo powder, an exclamation of "Hogwarts, eighth year Common Room!" and a flash of green light, Harry was gone.

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Draco was waiting for Harry when he stepped out of the fireplace.

Before he could say anything to his almost-boyfriend, Draco had already bounded towards him and wrapped him in his arms in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

"Dray?" Harry asked, slightly alarmed at his boyfriend's actions.

"I missed you," Draco said, his voice muffled in Harry's shirt. "I missed you, that's all," he repeated, slowly untangling himself from the dark-haired boy's arms, "So don't get it into your head that you're anything special, okay?"

Harry held back a smile at the dark look on the blond's face. "Of course I won't," he replied, deciding not to point out the fact that Draco's words made no logical sense at all.

"Stop laughing at me," Draco grumbled, Harry's innocent look not fooling him at all.

"I'm not!" Harry protested, holding his hands up in surrender.

Draco eyed him suspiciously. "Well, at least you got back on time," he said, changing subjects abruptly, "I was afraid I was going to have to pull you from the Weasley home dragging and screaming."

"I promised you, Dray, and I'm not going to break a promise," Harry replied seriously. "Besides, I haven't forgotten what tomorrow means for the two of us, you know. I wasn't about to miss that for anything in the world."

Draco smiled faintly at Harry's words. "Come on," he murmured, looping his hand in Harry's and tugging him towards the empty boys' dorm, "There's nothing that stops me from giving you one of your gifts a bit early, and I think you might like this…well, you'll them both, at any rate."

"Both?" Harry asked curiously, following Draco willingly.

"I couldn't decide which one to give you tonight, so I decided to give you both," Draco replied simply.

The dorm was completely empty, all the other eighth year boys having decided to return home for the holidays. Draco didn't let go of Harry's hand, tugging him towards the bed that was supposed to have been Draco's, had he not decided to spend his time in his room in the dungeons instead.

"You're sleeping here?" Harry asked, a faint note of surprise obvious in his voice.

Draco blushed violently, not saying a word, which only served to pique Harry's curiosity.

He stopped, not letting Draco pull him any further. "Dray…?"

Draco turned to face Harry, his face a flaming red that would have made a Weasley proud. "I felt closer to you here," he muttered in a low voice.

Harry felt a wide smile spread across his face, and this time, he was the one who reached out and pulled Draco into his arms. "You don't need to be embarrassed, you know," he whispered into the other boy's ear, "I missed you too. I didn't tell you, but I stole one of you tee-shirts before I left so that I could pretend you weren't so far away."

At his words, Draco pulled back slightly, looking at Harry with wide, surprised eyes. "Really?" he murmured.

"Yes, really," Harry replied gently, before leaning forward and closing the distance between their lips.

After a few moments, Draco reluctantly pulled away from Harry. "Come on," he said, "I still have to give you your gifts."

"What exactly did you get me?" Harry wondered out aloud as he trailed behind Draco. "I mean, I can't think of anything I need after everything that you've gotten me over the year."

Instead of replying, Draco pulled open the drapes around his bed and pushed Harry onto it. "Sit there!" he called out, turning towards his dresser and bending down to rummage in the bottom drawer for something.

Moments later, he emerged, two thin, gift-wrapped packages in his hand and a triumphant look on his face. "I found them!" he exclaimed, sitting down Indian style next to Harry and pushing the gifts towards him.

Harry pulled his whole body onto the bed, curling up next to Draco and picking up the closer package. A part of him wanted to open it slowly and tease Draco, but the eager look on the other boy's face destroyed any such ideas. With a quick shredding of the paper, Harry was holding a brand new journal in his hands.

"I knew you had filled in the one I gave you last year," Draco whispered when Harry didn't say a word for a few moments. "And I thought…" he trailed off, suddenly looking slightly unsure.

"It's perfect," Harry said. "Trust me, Dray, it's perfect. I was just surprised that you had noticed my journal."

Draco ducked his head, an embarrassed flush creeping up his face once more. "I notice everything about you," he murmured shyly.

Harry reached out a hand and tugged Draco down on the bed, manoeuvring him so that he was facing Harry. A part of wanted to say something, but Draco looked absolutely adorable – too adorable for Harry to wipe that look off of his face.

Instead, he reached out for the other package. "So," he said, "What's in this one?"

"Open it and find out yourself," Draco replied cheekily, the change in the subject resulting in the return of his confidence.

Giving him an exasperated look, Harry grabbed the wrapped gift and tore into it with as much gusto as with the first one. When he had finished shredding the wrapping paper to bits, he was left holding a little booklet, the words 'Gift Certificates' emblazoned on the top.

"Ummmm…" he said, looking at Draco with a confused expression on his face.

Draco smiled. He loved to see a confused Harry – in his opinion, there was nothing more endearing. "Open it," he urged. "It should make more sense to you then."

Harry looked slightly uncertain at Draco's reassurance. However, he opened the booklet nonetheless. The first page had a little gift certificate, just like the title implied, but it much different than any gift certificate Harry had ever seen before.

First of all, it was obviously handmade, and besides that, there was no monetary amount that he could redeem written on it. Instead, in beautiful calligraphy, it said 'Good For: A day of not arguing with your friends.'

"They're all like that," Draco explained before Harry could say anything. "You know, one kiss in public, a few hours of cuddling, visiting the Weasleys, things like that. If you detach the certificate and give it to me, I'll do whatever that certificate is good for with no arguments at all."

Instead of replying, Harry turned his attention back to the book in front of him, flipping through the certificates. Finally, when he reached the one he had been searching for, he tore it cleanly from the book and handed it silently to Draco.

For what seemed like the millionth time that night, Draco's face turned a bright red. He didn't say anything, but curled up silently in Harry's arms, burrowing his face in the Gryffindor's chest, closing his eyes, and letting his lips curl into a faint smile.

"I'll wake you up early tomorrow, you know that right?" he asked Harry in a soft murmur.

"Yes I do," the other boy replied, laughing softly. "I'm just as excited as you are, you know."

"I doubt it," Draco replied.

Harry simply smiled, and tightened his arms around Draco's body.

Forgotten, the certificate that read 'Good For: A few hours of cuddle time,' fluttered to the floor.

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**I hope you liked it! Please don't forget to drop a review on your way out :)**

**Also, I'd still like to hear your opinions on any gifts you'd like to see Draco give Harry - I have most of them already, but there's still space for another 2 or 3 :)**


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